


guiding light

by aquamarine_nebula



Series: intermissions [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, mentions of yuuri having a previous crush on yuuko (i know some people don't agree with that aha), written just after ep...3 or 4 i think so not canon compliant in the slightest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:22:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9646130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquamarine_nebula/pseuds/aquamarine_nebula
Summary: “Do you want to leave?”He was tempted to, and Celestino was looking at him in a soft way he reserved for when his skaters were feeling particularly down. The thought froze in his mind as, from the corner of his eye, he saw Viktor enter the rink.He shouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse, seeing his idol, the person he longed for, skating that beautiful routine that Yuuri hadn’t been able to get out of his mind since he first saw it weeks before.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i did always wonder if Yuuri watched Viktor's fs at the gpf in Sochi

**_you can be my guiding light_ **

1 -

There wasn’t much Yuuri wanted to remember about Detroit.

It had been too far from home, too alien. Leaving in the first place had been nothing more than a way to cover up how bruised his heart was from Yuuko marrying and loving someone else, and the immense guilt he harboured for even feeling that way. It wasn’t Yuuko or Nishigori’s fault that they’d found each other, but he felt more and more like a third wheel.

Yuuko had been the only one he’d been interested in, in a way that had _possibilities_  rather than his blind infatuation for Viktor Nikiforov.

Phichit helped. Celestino helped. Skating itself helped, although he always felt as if he was skating towards Viktor’s back, too slowly to ever catch up to him. When he threw himself wholeheartedly into the life he’d chosen, he could forget for a moment that the only people he really loved were too far away from him.

Qualifying for the Grand Prix was something; his chance to make Viktor notice him, but with everything that happened all it did was prove to Viktor that he was nothing.

(Not that Viktor had ever said that to him. In fact, he’d been perfectly amiable whenever they’d talked, even once gone to his hotel room a couple of nights before the competition to invite him out with the other skaters. It was probably that Yuuri clammed up every time Viktor spoke to him which had Viktor stop trying, in the end.)

He was aching all over, and almost too embarrassed to accept the questions in the interview after dropping from third place to sixth, but Celestino put a hand on his shoulder, ducking his head to whisper, “It’s not over,” in his ear, although Yuuri couldn’t see how it could _not_ be over.

He faked cheer for the five minutes that he could, admitted he was embarrassed at the results and that all athletes had their off days–his just happened to fall on one of the most important competitions of the season. They quickly bored of his mild answers.

Yuuri rolled his shoulders and winced. All those falls would probably be littering his body with bruises.

“Do you want to leave?”

He was tempted to, and Celestino was looking at him in a soft way he reserved for when his skaters were feeling particularly down. The thought froze in his mind as, from the corner of his eye, he saw Viktor enter the rink.

He shouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse, seeing his idol, the person he longed for, skating that beautiful routine that Yuuri hadn’t been able to get out of his mind since he first saw it weeks before.

He was stunning when he skated, and the audience was hushed as he began his portrayal of a man searching for love. A perfect portrayal, even though a man like him couldn’t be as lonely as his character was. That was ingenuity in its highest form.

He still felt the same awe and wonder that he had when Yuuko had excitedly shown him performance after performance when they were children. It bubbled higher and higher, until he was _itching_  to be on the ice and show everyone what he could do when he was inspired.

The falls, missed steps, and the reasons for his performance flashed through his mind and he froze. He’d missed his chance. Vicchan was gone, he’d disappointed everyone, Viktor would never truly notice him. And if Viktor wouldn’t notice him, what was the point of skating? What was the point of everything he’d done to get to this point?

“You’ve still got competitions to come. You can redeem yourself,” Celestino said. His arm was tight around Yuuri’s shoulder and Yuuri shifted uncomfortably.

He hummed, just to acknowledge that he’d heard, and watched the last of Viktor’s performance, his heart aching with something he couldn’t place.

Oh well. Finish the season, finish his degree and then… then what? Go home?

Then what?

 

2 -

Viktor could still inspire him, even after all the humiliation was still fresh in his mind. He’d kept up his skating for a while, before letting it slip as soon as he was home. Instead he hid everything in his heart by helping out at the onsen and hiding in his room. His family didn’t comment on his failures, and the trophies–useless trinkets, for all he cared–winked at him mockingly.

But the itch to throw himself back onto the ice came back with a vengeance as soon as he saw Viktor preparing for his performance. He hadn’t felt it so strongly for months, and it kindled a spark of hope.

Right now, he was stagnant, torn between hating himself and pitying himself. He’d continued skating in Detroit as a sense of duty, finding himself skating Viktor’s _Stammi Vicino_  instead of his own as a way to grasp at his quickly waning passion. But seeing Viktor prepare brought it all back, copying Viktor’s routines with Yuuko at his side, the childish but real excitement when a magazine had a new poster of him, the overwhelming happiness when he qualified for the Grand Prix and knew he’d be skating on the same ice as him.

He was shaking and much too warm when he was finally on the ice, asking Yuuko to watch him.

And for the first time, he didn’t see Viktor’s disappearing back in his mind. He was facing him squarely with obvious respect in his eyes. Yuuri wasn’t completely devoid of self-awareness, he knew he was skating well, and even if he didn’t Yuuko’s expression was open enough that he could easily see how amazed she was.

He felt himself smile as he skated, a true smile that felt natural and good rather than the forced imitations he’d become so used to.

He wasn’t a genius, not like Viktor, but his skating had pure depth of emotion. In that, he could surpass him.

He was breathing hard when he finished, and felt almost as if all his senses had finally awoken. When Yuuko bashed her hands against the barrier, he jumped from just how loud it sounded.

He vowed it to himself time and time again that evening. He would face Viktor, and Viktor would see him as an equal.

 

 

+1 -

Viktor’s hand was warm in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles over his skin. It was trailing fire, and he almost missed when his score was announced, staring uncertainly at the blurry screen as the audience erupted, until Viktor threw his arms around him saying that he’d won with an excitement that was a shocking contrast to how calm and unbelieving Yuuri felt. It took Viktor turning his head and kissing him, from pure joy or pride, for Yuuri to blink his way to reality.

“I won?” he asked himself, slipping into Japanese accidentally.

“Yes,” Viktor answered, kissing him again before the journalists rushed to them.

Ah. Maybe he was kissing him out of love.

-

That Viktor might leave after it was over came to him the night of his win. He was exhausted yet restless from celebrating and how ardently Viktor had worshipped his body when they finally managed to slip away and collapse into bed. Viktor was sleeping soundly, their legs tangled together and arms tight enough around him that it took slow, careful movements to turn to face him without rousing him.

Viktor loved him. He knew it, and yet the demons in his mind still tried to convince him otherwise. They tried to convince him the next morning when Viktor woke him with a myriad of kisses on his shoulders and neck, when he settled in Yuuri’s arms on the plane back from Barcelona to sleep, when his mother greeted Viktor like he was her own son.

“Let’s go to Ice Castle,” he said, a few hours after they’d arrived. Yuuri frowned questioningly. “Seeing you made me want to skate,” he continued with a beaming smile. “You inspired me.”

Yuuri wanted to hide his face, but couldn’t bring himself to look away. He let Viktor take his hand and lead him out, picking up their skates on the way.

He seemed… particularly pensive, almost serious, and it wasn’t until they were by the rink that he finally spoke.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he ordered in a low voice, and Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat.

He knew the routine enough, almost seeing Viktor dancing it whenever he closed his eyes, that he recognised it from the start, even without the music.

Yuuri hadn’t really known what Viktor had meant when he said he was drawn to Yuuri because of the music, but it struck him that this was what he meant. The rink was silent, but Viktor was filling it with his own music. Every movement he made was a crescendo, diminuendo, a progression, a cadence. All of it resulted in one phrase, ‘ _Stay by my side and never leave_ ’.

When he finished, he was breathing hard, not projecting any false character like he would in competition. Dishevelled, wearing casual clothes, his eyes wide and bright with a raw smile, Yuuri had never seen him more beautiful.

It was finally a true response to his quadruple flip, to when he danced the same piece a year beforehand. Viktor stared at him for a moment, and Yuuri blinked away tears before they obscured his vision of him.

“I never felt happier at someone else’s accomplishments than my own,” he said, approaching Yuuri to take his hands.”Well, towards the end it’s not like I felt happy at my _own_  accomplishments. I was reminded at every turn that I would end up nothing more than… than a _benchmark_  to pass. When I realised that I’d never been more scared. I’d given up everything for a sport that would finish by casting me aside.” He was silent for a moment, looking down at their entwined hands with an unbearably soft expression. “When I first came, I just wanted to have a connection with someone. I never expected that I would fall for you. But I’m glad I did.”

“I won’t leave your side.”

Viktor smiled at his breathless voice, leaning in to place his forehead on Yuuri’s. “Me neither.”


End file.
